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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002340">Hold on through Heaven and Hell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/exitium/pseuds/exitium'>exitium</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Of Knights &amp; Royalty, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Crack, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hidden Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Original Character(s), Original Universe, sorry idk how to tag this, the true okar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:34:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,624</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25002340</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/exitium/pseuds/exitium</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hold on to each other, or I fear we won't recover.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ambrosia Adstrum | Ambr/Sumire Luni</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Of Knights &amp; Royalty</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Rest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Other than Sumire, none of these ocs belong to me:</p><p>Ambr - Mes, that whore<br/>Inuko - Vee<br/>Silos - Fe</p><p>This is the first piece I ever wrote for this verse, but it's still one of my favorites.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>✧✧✧</p><p>“Pardon me for intruding, my lady… But are you reading <em>Seaside Gospel </em>by Adolphe Bastien?”  </p><p>With a mildly interested glance to him, Sumire dips the book into her lap. The wind rustles it slightly, but she holds it down taut so Ambr can see the watercolor paintings of the ocean. Pretty cursive etch each illustration, describing the sentiments of the ocean in icing sugared words. </p><p>“It is. Do you know it?” </p><p>“I read some.” He pauses, and then tilts his head. “Some of the metaphors fly over my head, admittedly.”</p><p>Oh? That’s surprising. “Uh huh,” Sumire grins and flips the page. “Yeah, Bastien’s kind of a pretentious, white-knighting prick, but… The pictures are pretty.” </p><p>“Picture books are to your liking, then? I’ll be sure to check the children’s section in the library for you, my lady.” </p><p>The sound of Sumire’s laughter is sudden, coming out of her like a gunblast, like she expected that jab. He smiles, just a little. “You’re impossible. I’m reading it because I’ve never seen the sea. I’ve heard it’s beautiful… And I’d like to see it one day.” </p><p>She turns the page and traces her finger over the beck and call of the shore, and imagines herself at the seaside. The sunset painting the sky in all shades of orange, the wind singing to her, the ocean as blue as the sky… </p><p>“What a beautiful sight for the ocean,” he murmurs. </p><p>… And Ambr beside her, warm and smiling, his radiance outshining the sun. </p><p>Just like now. Sunbeams dapple his face languidly, and she has to sigh so that her heart doesn’t burst. Sumire pretends to be irritated. “Flatterer.”</p><p>“I only speak of the truth.”</p><p>“Write a book about it. Make sure it has pictures so I’ll read it.” </p><p>This time <em>he </em>laughs, but it’s brief. Overtaken by a yawn, he quickly turns his head so she doesn’t see, gloved hand covering his mouth. Sumire raises a brow. His work schedule is hectic and disorderly. Staying by her side for most of the day, tending to the prince, and forced to uptake duties that sometimes aren’t even his… It’s no surprise that he’s exhausted. But he would never admit it- in fact, he’d probably just apologize. </p><p>She glances at their picnic basket, stocked to the brim with Silos’ baking and cooking. The sandwiches have been finished, and the rest of the sweets he baked are done, too. All that’s left is some fruit. </p><p>“Tired, are we?” Sumire muses. She reaches into the basket and plucks a single green grape, watching it gleam and shine. </p><p>“No, my lady, my apologies- nn.” </p><p>The grape is pressed stubbornly against his lips to shut him up. Sumire squints at him. “Don’t apologize. I know you haven’t been sleeping well. You should rest.” </p><p>“But-”</p><p>“Ah. Orders from your future queen.” </p><p>And so he relents, unable to deny her when her lavender eyes narrowed and sharpened. A silent command. He knows that look. Sumire is a reasonable person, much to everyone’s surprise. But her headstrong nature never truly goes away- her eyes say it all. He can’t defy her even if he wanted to. </p><p> Ambr sighs, and nods once, “As you wish, my lady. Wake me if you need me.”</p><p>✧✧✧</p><p>In his slumber, he kept shifting, unable to find a comfortable resting position. The solution was clear to Sumire; she gently pressed his head down until her lap became his pillow. His breathing evened. She wonders what he’s dreaming about. </p><p>As her fingers gently rake through his hair, she reads, admiring the paintings of the ocean. Metaphors hit and miss. It’s all fair weather to her. </p><p>“Psst.” </p><p>Sumire jolts. She glances down to make sure she hasn’t woken Ambr, leaning her back against the base of the tree further so she can peer around its trunk. She spots a dash of long pink hair, and immediately she knows who it is. </p><p>Inuko plops down in front of her carelessly, her smile easy and effortless. The sight of her fills her heart with lightness. Sumire can feel a grin spreading her lips. “If it isn’t the strongest, most powerful dragon-tamer and woman I know. Tell me you bring good news.”</p><p>Inuko snorts, waving a hand dismissively in the air. “The prince wants to know why you’re thirty minutes late to his luncheon. I came here to tell you so you can skip it completely.” </p><p>“You’re the best.” </p><p>“I know,” Inuko pops a grape into her mouth and, finally, looks at Ambr sleeping peacefully on her lap. “You’re lucky you have me.” </p><p>“I really am,” Sumire sighs, and pats the space beside her. “Come sit with me? The wind is lovely, but you’re lovelier, and I want to hear your stories. Queen’s orders.” </p><p>✧✧✧</p><p>Inuko’s cheek presses gently into Sumire’s shoulder, leaning against her comfortably. She had told all her stories like this, close and warm like they used to as they both plucked flowers from the ground and stuck them in Ambr’s hair. But eventually, Inuko’s grand tales lost their momentum and were affected with vertigo. Her words began to slow, and she trailed off more… </p><p>Until her eyes finally closed, and now she’s asleep. </p><p>If Sumire ever goes to the sea, she will bring Ambr and Inuko to the blue waters, reaching and calling for them. There will be a huge picnic and a comforting wind… And if she closes her eyes she can almost feel it, like she’s there. But something feels like it’s missing…</p><p>A rustle in the leaves behind them. Sumire opens her eyes and finds Silos crouching in front of her. She smiles at the sight of him. </p><p>“Hello. Have I been reported missing yet?” </p><p>His lips quirk. It could almost be a smirk, but it fades away quickly. He signs, <em>No. Not yet. They know you’re avoiding the palace, so they sent me here to fetch you. </em></p><p>“Are you going to?” </p><p>Silos flares his nostrils, his expression clearly amused. <em>I’ll save you the trouble, your majesty. </em></p><p>Then, he surveys Inuko and Ambr, both fast asleep. <em>Working hard, I see, </em>he signs, and Sumire laughs. </p><p>“Always. Sit beside me. Apparently I make for a good pillow.” </p><p>✧✧✧</p><p>Silos had drifted off too, arms crossed, body slanted into Sumire’s. He was stubborn, telling her that he’s not going to sleep while no one was watching out for any telltale signs of danger. She just told him, ‘Sure’, and half an hour later he was nodding off. Cute. </p><p>Now, the sun has dipped far into the horizon, the sky cast in flame. </p><p>Sumire closes her eyes and dreams of the beach. Ambr, Inuko, and Silos and the sea… If she reaches out, it almost feels like she’s there. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Playground Collision</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Nova Voren belongs to Owl, and Ambr Adstrum belongs to Mes. Sumire's mine, alll mine. </p>
<p>This was.. I think the second piece I wrote too, and it's still one of my favorites as well. It like marks one of the worse events to have happened in the verse, and each oc went through something different.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>✧✧✧</p>
<p>Collateral damage. That’s what they say when unintended events occur as a result of military operations.  That’s what they’re calling the situation at hand. <em>Collateral damage. </em></p>
<p>Sumire thinks ‘playground collision’ would be more fitting. The politics of the kingdoms have always been complicated- assassinations are every other Tuesday and thinly-veiled threats are a norm in every conversation between nobles. Loyalty is always questioned, alliances are always waning or forming, and the social construction of nobility and above have always <em>been </em>delicate. </p>
<p>So if you belonged to the upper echelon of the social ladder, you would <em>know </em>that a princess attempting to murder her husband-to-be is as normal as buying tomatoes at the market when you run out. </p>
<p>But if you happen to run out of tomatoes on the day you want to make your husband’s favorite meal, cheese linguine, then it’s a big fucking deal. </p>
<p>It became a huge deal. </p>
<p>Across all the kingdoms on the continent, her act of disloyalty and hatred became an act of <em>war. </em>A threat to the alliance between the Bernias and the Aetholbeornes, one of the strongest alliances on the continent until she <em>nearly succeeded in murdering him. </em>She can remember how the guards had ripped her off of Avarice’s body as she thrashed and screamed curses at him, promising him his death. </p>
<p>And she remembered the look in his eyes; wide-eyed shell-shock… and right before the door closed, a smirk. </p>
<p>Playground collision. </p>
<p>What she had done had set off a chain-reaction of events: her banishment, the announcement of her untrue death, the death of her father, and Avarice taking the throne… Which led to a shaky alignment between the Vorens and the new Bernias, the arrival of the six other Aetholbeorne siblings, and as she recently just found out upon returning from her banishment: the re-enslavement of her retainer, Ambr, under the gracious care of Avarice himself.</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s good to have you back, Sumi,”  Nova had said to her after her speedy recovery. “I… take it that you’re all caught up with everything?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She had noticed how tired he looked, but he still pressed on with a smile. Sunny as ever. “Glad to be back. It’s a fucking disaster out there, but you’re a god in mortal clothing for somehow owning any semblance of sanity.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“The key is to not be sane, ever.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>They had shared a smile. “Golden piece of advice I could have used during my banishment. How’s it feel to see a dead girl walking, by the way?”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nova’s laugh was brief, but genuine. “Eh, nothing new. You look stupidly radiant for someone who’s supposedly been through hell… But also relieving, because… I. He’s… He’s so lost, Sumire.” </em>
</p>
<p>Lost wouldn’t even begin to cover the bases of Ambr’s state. But it was the only fallible word for it. When Nova said those words to her, it took a moment for them to truly sink in. And once they made home into her heart, into her bones, Nova didn’t need to say any more. The hurt and madness took shelter in her body until she grew numb. </p>
<p>    Playground collision. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>✧✧✧</p>
<p>    “He’s right in here,” says Nova. They stop before a rosewood door, well-polished and oiled. The scent of incense slips out from the gap at the bottom of the door- Sumire smells lotus and orange blossoms. “Listen…” </p>
<p>    “Mhm?” Ambr. <em>Ambr. </em>Her entire being is thrumming with anticipation. This is her first time seeing him for so long. She’s prepared herself for his state, told herself a thousand times it won’t be the Ambr she knew before her greatest failure and mistake. Nova hasn’t even finished his sentence before she reaches for the door handle. </p>
<p>    His hand snaps over her wrist gently. “Sumi.”</p>
<p>    “Let’s go <em>already</em>.” </p>
<p>    “You need to be careful,” Nova says slowly. “Please, Sumi. I’m not saying you will, but if you’re too forward, he might break and spiral…” </p>
<p>    A flash of anger bursts in her chest. She knows already. She’s not going to go in there and attempt to ‘bring him back’. She knows better than that, even if it doesn’t seem like it! “Look,” she hisses, turning on her heel to face him, truly face Nova. “I-” </p>
<p>    All words fail. They die on her tongue when she sees Nova’s expression. </p>
<p>    He’s lost Ambr once already. It occurs to her that this is the second time Nova has lost him. And Ambr is <em>right in front of him. </em></p>
<p>    All this time… </p>
<p>    Sumire shuts her eyes. <em>There you go again, thinking only about yourself. </em>Her emotions, so wound up and tight inside her chest, slacken, and finally she breathes again. Rage leaves her and Sumire reaches out to squeeze Nova’s hand- a sign of defeat and guilt.</p>
<p> “... You’re right. I’ll try and be careful. Sorry about that, kit. I just…” </p>
<p>    “I know.” He smiles tiredly at her. “Come on.” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>✧✧✧</p>
<p>    He is so far gone. Reaching out for him feels unreal. Even if her hands tangibly touch his, he’d disappear. Nova was right, nothing could have prepared her for what she just saw. She tried to get through to him. </p>
<p>    “<em>When the world denies you choices, you make your own.”</em></p>
<p>    But it wasn’t enough. Ambr had exploded, asking why on earth would he believe them when he <em>tried. </em>He tried to be autonomous and look at where that got him. </p>
<p>    “<em>I don’t even know who I am,” </em>he said, nearly breathless. “<em>I don’t know what to do. You have to tell me what to do. I only live to serve.”</em></p>
<p>    “What the hell did you do to him,” she whispers into the empty room, curled up on her bed. Sumire clutches her violet pin against her chest, where her heart lays weeping. She thinks of Avarice, and the smirk on his face. Why did it never occur to her that he dug his wretched claws into Ambr? </p>
<p>    Why did it never occur to her that this isn’t the first time he hurt him? </p>
<p>    How much more? Who else? Inuko? Silos? Mai? Who else? How far has Avarice taken this? How much <em>further? </em>Why is she so <em>blind? </em>So ignorant? So… useless, so weak? </p>
<p>    Sumire curls up into herself and tries to still her stupid, throbbing heart. She thinks it would be nice if it could just shut up for once. </p>
<p>✧✧✧</p>
<p>    “So, let me get this straight,” Sumire unfolds her arms, her hard stare watching Nova from across the table. “I disappeared to that stupid labyrinth, right? And Avarice tried to pretend he wasn’t the one who sent me off.”</p>
<p>    “That’s right. I asked him when I visited the palace. He said you were dilly-dallying.” Nova idly plays with the neck of his wine glass, then tilts his head. “And then…”</p>
<p>    “And then you guys had this verbal cockfight about,” Sumire swallows a sip of wine first, before continuing, “dogs and slavery and then there was this girl that came in that sort of outed that Ambr was <em>literally </em>being tortured downstairs. Like, right beneath where you two were talking.” </p>
<p>    “Yep.”</p>
<p>    “And you formulated a plan to get him out… One of the princesses helped you by setting up an ascension party, which proved to be a distraction to all ye lordly and lady pricks up there.”</p>
<p>    “And I wore my best outfit.”</p>
<p>    Sumire raises her glass to that. “You wore your best outfit, can’t forget that. And then you got him out and… Avarice hasn’t done anything. That’s…”</p>
<p>    “... Strange, right? Because he’s someone who likes to be five steps ahead. It would be naïve to assume that he <em>isn’t</em> planning something.” Nova sighs. His bright eyes stare into his wine glass, as if he was searching the rosé for answers. Whatever he saw, it made him frown. </p>
<p>    “What?” Sumire asks when Nova’s silence stretches on for far too long. He glances at her, and Sumire sighs. She nudges his foot with hers, and she raises a brow. “<em>Whaat</em>?” </p>
<p>    He huffs. “I’m expecting the storm to hit anytime now, whatever it is he has planned. I just… I don’t know if any preparations I am making are enoughto just weather this storm. Let alone afterwards.” </p>
<p>    To say that she’s surprised is a major understatement. Sumire blinks owlishly at him. Nova is one of the best tacticians she <em>knows, </em>and she knows plenty of people. Kingdoms rise and fall and they’ll present their sons at her feet, boasting about the battles they’ve won, all the lands they’ve conquered… But even they pale in comparison to Nova. He quite literally solved so many issues on his own- if she were in his position, she’s sure all she would have done was sit around and scream and complain. </p>
<p>    So she can’t help but scoff. “Seriously? Nova. You’re a force to be reckoned with on your own. Now I’m here, and soon enough Vivie will be racing here to support you. Besides, you don’t seriously think that I’m going to let Avarice <em>live, </em>do you?” </p>
<p>    The mention of Avarice has Nova’s expression darken, and Sumire doesn’t miss it. Dread fills her stomach, and she wonders what that bastard has done, what he did. What he <em>said. </em>It’s always Avarice’s words that stick. They’re like knives that are never drawn out from your back. You just bleed and bleed and bleed… </p>
<p>“You got that right. Not after what he’s done.”</p>
<p>“See? So, cheer up. And finish this bottle of rosé with me, it’s expensive.” </p>
<p>✧✧✧</p>
<p>Ambr’s clothes have arrived from the palace. Nova’s extensive network of spies have managed to snag Ambr’s daily outfit. Sumire doesn’t even have to open the package to imagine it. If she closes her eyes, she can picture him tugging on his glove. The wind in his hair, the gentle smile on his face. </p>
<p>When she opens her eyes, she sees Ambr staring listlessly out the window, awaiting orders. His coat fits him as it did before, but there’s something about how his shoulders are set that makes him look so alone. The sight of him makes her heart shatter, and she’s suddenly unsure of herself.</p>
<p>Uselessly, Sumire glances at Nova over her shoulder. He raises his brows at her, then nods. <em>You can do it, </em>his expression says. </p>
<p>
  <em>Can I? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You know he’d do the same for you. For us, if we were in his position.</em>
</p>
<p><em>I know. </em>But they’re not. It’s always him. </p>
<p>Sumire huffs, and stares at the violet brooch in her hands. It shines and gleams under the low fire light, and suddenly she remembers her mother. She wonders what her mother would do in this situation. Every fibre in her body is screaming at her to walk away and save herself the pain, but then she looks up and she sees <em>him </em>and she just can’t bring herself to leave him. </p>
<p>Though, when could she ever? </p>
<p>“Ambr,” she says. “You forgot something.” </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Balancing Act</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inuko Rosa belongs to Vee :3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Warnings: </strong>Mentions of abuse (physical, psychological, verbal), mentions of violence</p><p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p><p>    “Your <em>knight,</em>” says the King, “is an eyesore and a stain to this palace, in both <em>place </em>and <em>ideals. </em>She does not belong, Sumire.” </p><p>    The black, obsidian throne her father sits himself on mocks her. So close, yet <em>so </em>out of reach. If Sumire tries hard enough, she can stare into the smooth, jagged edges of the throne and see her obscured reflection. Maybe if she looks long enough, she can jump into another reality. Anything but this one. She <em>dreads </em>this useless conversation…</p><p>    “A half-breed mutt has no place to be here,” the King continues, “and I know I’ve allowed you the freedom to choose who serves you, but her kind is nothing but danger. Dragons are wrathful, ugly creatures. They’ve destroyed our people in their warpath.”</p><p>    Ugh. Sumire fixes a scowl into her expression. “Our people <em>also</em> trespassed into their lands and aggravated them. And then an entire war broke loose across the kingdom, bringing nothing but toil and destruction, because humans decided they wanted to harvest dragon scales like it’s some sort of crop. <em>I know my history, </em>I know what happened.”</p><p>    “And during that war, how many people died?” </p><p>    “Thousands. Thousands fell. But remember that it could have been mitigated if our ‘people’ could have just <em>listened </em>and waited. We didn’t know dragons could communicate until half a century ago, and I know <em>damn well </em>that that wasn’t some fucking coincidence. That was on purpose. We never gave them a chance.” </p><p>    The temperature in the room drops. King Bernia hates it when she talks like this. Every syllable of her words are delivered like a knife to the back, sharp and swift. He wants her voice soft and soothing, mellow and subdued. <em>Like how you sing, my caged flower, </em>he had said to her one day. </p><p>    But fuck it, she’s on a roll. “So no,” Sumire says, raising her chin. “I am <em>not </em>sending Inuko away, if that’s what you’re implying, because you’re playing <em>victim </em>in a war that was at the fault of humans. A war you didn’t even fight in, but I know damn well that if you did, you’d choose the wrong side.”</p><p>    <em>You’d destroy her kind. Brutally. Relentlessly. I know it because violence is the only certain thing in your nature. </em></p><p>    King Bernia levels his eyes to meet hers. She can tell by the way his jaw clenches that his temper is rising, and that if she isn’t careful, she’d earn herself a rightful bruise on the arm somehow. </p><p>    “She has the blood of her ancestors,” he says, voice low. </p><p>    “She’s <em>mine,</em>” Sumire hisses, seething. “And she stays.” </p><p>    Sumire has lost her twice already. Never again. The fact that her father would even attempt to negotiate this with her nearly sends her over the edge. She can feel fire on the tip of her tongue, rage building inside of her like a furnace. The words are out of her mouth before she can even regret it.</p><p>    “It’s not her fault that you’re a coward.”</p><p>    The air in the room is suddenly suffocating. </p><p>    King Bernia stares at her, expression unreadable. His molten gold eyes hold weight as he waits, expecting her to shatter the silence again, then settles into his throne when he is met with nothing. Carefully, he leans back. Sumire’s expression never falters, angry and strong. </p><p>    “You are dismissed,” he says after a tense silence. Sumire shakes her head and glares, leaving without a word.</p><p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p><p>    There is a game Sumire and her father play. The rules are unspoken and it bears no name; if she had to give it one it would be called <em>“Tightrope”</em>. A balancing act that comprises just her as the performer. If she teeters too far to one side, she falls, and she loses. She has to pace herself, keep herself steady- or else she cannot ever hope to survive his cruelty.</p><p>    It’s hard to explain. The best way to describe it is like when you <em>know </em>your father is in a bad mood so you have to watch what you say or what you do… It’s just that it’s that, times one thousand. Every wrong move is dealt with punishment, but he’s learned long ago that physical harm cannot do anything to her, nor can words meant to kill. The punishment has to get past her guard. </p><p>    If she shows weakness, she’s done for. Sumire <em>cannot </em>lose control. There’s so much at stake now.</p><p>    “You okay?” Inuko asks. Sumire’s train of thought snaps. “You spaced out there, Princess.”</p><p>    “Long day,” Sumire huffs, idly blowing her violet hair out of her face. A smirk breaks out into her expression as she eyes Inuko making a valiant attempt at sewing. Her canvas is filled with holes and random lines of red thread going nowhere. In the middle- what she assumes to be a rose.</p><p>    “It’s a cat,” Inuko explains.</p><p>    “Oh, shit,” Sumire mumbles. “It’s incredible.”</p><p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p><p>    You surround yourself with the people you love, and it’s all fun and games until you remember that you are in a den of lions and thorns. Sumire can’t bring herself to say she didn’t <em>want </em>to have people she cares for; loneliness had harrowed itself into her bones so deeply back then, and she can still feel it. But it’s eased up, somehow. She can list out the people she’s met who have changed her for the better: Mai, Silos, Inuko, Ambr, Nova, Vivie… Even the two new court mages aren’t too bad (though a bit… trifling?)</p><p>    Sumire frowns as she curls up in her bed. Gently, she plucks the violet from her hair and holds it against her chest, right above her heart. </p><p>    Inuko is the one she’s known the longest. Their history is practically entwined; from the moment they met on the streets to the moment they were reunited again and again. The first person who ever gave her a chance was Inuko. Sumire doesn’t give a shit if she’s a dragon or not. </p><p>    She can remember the day she was practically dragged away from Inuko like some sort of animal. A knight’s gauntlet in her mussed up, violet hair, forcibly pulling her towards a carriage as she screamed and screamed for her best friend. <em>I don’t want to leave her! </em></p><p>    Promises yelled between tears. <em>Remember our promise, I won’t forget it! </em></p><p>When she closes her eyes, darkness swallows her whole.</p><p>She dreams of Inuko, and the promise they made of always finding their way to one another. </p><p>In the light of the morning sun, she looked radiant, smiling peacefully as their pinkies entwined… But then a cloud of darkness swallowed up the light, turning their home into a lightless place. The last thing she sees is Inuko’s wide-eyed expression… And then nothing but pitch-black.</p><p>Sumire wakes up in cold sweat. She doesn’t feel well-rested at all.</p><p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p><p>    “Do you remember,” Sumire says, outside in their usual spot, a hidden meadow in the forest beside a running river, “the little village where we met-”</p><p>    “Oh my god.<em> Romesa,</em>” Inuko laughs, and nods once. “I remember a lot of things. The hawker stall that sold those sesame balls...”</p><p>    “<em>Mmmm, </em>oh my god,” Sumire sighs, “no one can get that recipe right. My favorite was filled with purple yam, yours was red bean paste. We used to steal from the old lady there, what was her name? Aurellia?” </p><p>    Inuko shakes her head with a scoff and another dry laugh. “Aurellia, yeah. She used to pretend to chase us off with a wooden spatula. Always told the guards that the thieves were too fast. You and I both know that wasn’t the case.”</p><p>    “And we used to sleep on the roof of that abandoned sill-”</p><p>    “-Oh, right, I remember. With patchwork blankets. Just watching the stars.” Inuko smirks, and nudges her side. “My, my. Feeling nostalgic are we, Princess?”</p><p>    Sumire rolls her eyes but smiles, relishing in the feeling of being side-by-side with Inuko. Their bare shoulders bump into each other as she giggles. “A little. I used to think about coming back all the time, but I never had the time. I wonder how everyone’s doing. I don’t remember the names too well, but the faces, maybe…”</p><p>    “We should visit soon, then,” Inuko offers nonchalantly. “It’s been awhile. The first few years alone weren’t the best, but.” Something dark and pained crosses her expression, like fish coming up to surface still waters. Ripples of the little girl Sumire met all those years ago show; the inkling of fire in her eyes, rage, anger, anguish… And then it all disappears in the next second, her expression shifting back to something neutral. </p><p>    It hurts to see Inuko like this. This is no exception. Sumire turns her gaze away to the river, brows furrowing. “But…?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Inuko hums. She leans her weight into Sumire, and Sumire laughs. “It’d be </p><p>nice to remember where I came from… Sort of like a way to remind myself what I went through.”</p><p>    Sumire smiles. She links their pinkies together, and leans her head on her shoulder. “You’re so sentimental, it’s lame.”</p><p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p><p>    “Princess,” one of her father’s personal retainers, Aiden, bows deeply before continuing, “your father, the King, requests your presence in his carriage. Immediately.”</p><p>    Sumire lives and breathes by the words, <em>When the world denies you choices, you make your own. </em>Bravery fails her. Something cold and icy has gripped her heart, and suddenly she can’t bring herself to reject the proposition. The past few days, her father has been silent. He’s ignored her altogether, keeping her on the edge of her seat. Her slip-up surely hasn’t gone undocumented. So what has he done? What has he planned? </p><p>    More importantly, how can she deal with it? How does she deal with it? What had she done before?</p><p>Shakily placing down her teacup, Sumire nods. “Go on ahead.” </p><p>She steels herself for the worst, ironing out her heart with metal and diamonds. </p><p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p><p>    Three hours into the carriage ride, King Bernia finally decides to speak. “Do you remember when you first arrived at the palace?”</p><p>    A simple question. Sumire turns her gaze from the rolling green hills and forests to her father’s unreadable face, and she knows immediately that the game has begun. What is she fighting for, what is she losing? <em>Inuko </em>is a distant scream in her mind, but she knows he wouldn’t do that. He taught her that death is a weak means to an end. Living is so much harder. You can make a person curl up and suffer if you know what makes them tick. </p><p>    <em>Careful, </em>she tells herself. “Yes. I was ten, nearly eleven, and I was furious.”</p><p>    “And who could ever forget that,” he chuckles lowly. “I certainly didn’t. You were an enigma, a spark of life in the dull walls of the castle. What were your first words to me, do you remember?”</p><p>    He’s not giving her much of a choice. This is a losing battle, but she’s not sure what the fuck she’s losing. Sumire shrugs helplessly, brows furrowing. “I was from the streets, and you shoved me into a culture of riches and glory. I told you that ‘I didn’t belong here’.”</p><p>    “You did,” he grins, and Sumire feels her stomach drop. “And I told you that you do. You still do. I’m here to remind you of that, where you belong.”</p><p>    The carriage pulls to a stop, and Sumire clenches her fist. The door is pulled open for her, and her father steps out first to offer her his hand. </p><p>    Sumire hesitates. “What is this?” She asks, as she looks around. All she sees is a barren wasteland of <em>ash </em>and dust, and it chokes her. </p><p>    King Bernia doesn’t respond. His hand closes in around her wrist and every instinct in Sumire to fight back flares. Heart beating loudly, she tries to snatch her hand away, but he <em>pulls </em>her onto the land, her heels dragging across the floor.</p><p>    “Let go!” She yells, and she tugs. Her resistance is helpless against his natural physical brawn. “Let go of me!” </p><p>    “Stay put and let me show you what you’ve done,” King Bernia growls, and this time he tugs so hard she stumbles to her knees. But he doesn’t stop pulling, so she’s dragged, knees scraped raw by ash and rough sediment. She cries and shrieks curses, unable to understand-- </p><p>    Until he stops. </p><p>    Sumire has time to catch her breath. He lets go of her wrist, but this time he holds the back of her head so she can <em>see. </em></p><p>    “Do you know this place?” He asks gently, as Sumire tries to fight back against his grasp. “Answer me.”</p><p>    “No,” she spits. “What the fuck--”</p><p>    “Good,” King Bernia murmurs. “Good. I don’t want you to recognize this place, nor do I want you to ever try and return to it. Because there is <em>nothing </em>to return to. You are a Bernia. You are not some <em>peasant girl </em>running around with a <em>dragon mutt, </em>do <em>not </em>bring shame to our house. Do you understand?”</p><p>    Her eyes adjust to her surroundings. She doesn’t understand at first where she is. All she sees is <em>ash, </em>and it’s choking her, clogging up her lungs. Amongst the ash is white sediment, crumbled. What is this? What does she see? What does she feel? Think, Sumire!</p><p>Beneath her palm, something sharp pierces her skin and draws blood.</p><p>    She lifts her palm, shaking.</p><p>    Bone. A skull too tiny to belong to an adult’s. Too new to be too far gone. As if the flesh had just been burned off…</p><p>    “No,” Sumire whispers. Fear and dread and horror and anguish claw up her heart, swallowing her whole.</p><p>    “Yes,” King Bernia says. “Romesa. Your quaint little childhood village with your quaint little dragon friend, reduced to nothing. <em>Never call me a coward ever again.</em>”</p><p>    Sumire goes still as he stands. </p><p>    “You can walk back home and think about what you’ve done. And when you get home, I want you to tell Inuko about what remains of this place. Tell her what caused it. Hopefully you will learn to keep your mouth shut.”</p><p>    King Bernia’s footsteps recede, and all that’s left is Sumire. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Love Letters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p>
<p>   

 <strong>Dear Mai Mai, </strong>

</p>
<p>No, this isn’t a confession letter. I already know you’ve gotten plenty. I’m impressed. How the hell did you get <em>Prida’s </em>attention? That woman is seriously an iron wall, but… Go you. Climb that wall. </p>
<p>I suppose I should go on about how much I appreciate you. What a drab. You better commit these words to memory, because this is going to be a rare occasion. </p>
<p>You’ve always been the type of person to lift your chin and move forward. Always. No matter the circumstance. And that kind of resolve… I admire that. It’s scary because I know your childhood wasn’t the sunniest, but your smile is as bright as the sun itself.  But remember that when the world falls down around you and all hope is lost, I’m here to help pick up the pieces. I’ve got your back. Always.</p>
<p>Never change. That’s an order. </p>
<p>Xoxo, Sumire </p>
<p>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>Dear Silos, </strong>
</p>
<p>Imagine my surprise when I heard that some of the noble girls were gossipping about you? Sil! I’m losing my mind over here, you’ve got fans! What are you going to do with this information? </p>
<p>By the way- I tried to mimic your french toast recipe and failed spectacularly. It was supposed to be for you. I know, I’m practically a saint, thinking of others. I hope these cookies suffice, though. </p>
<p>I know it’s a bit simple. Do you remember when we first met? You and I were so young back then, but you more so than I. For some reason, you somehow sensed my teenage angsting and you gave me cookies wordlessly. You may not think of it, but it meant everything to me back then. </p>
<p>You are the pride of the Amanes. I recognize this in your skill, especially in someone so young. But you are my pride, too.Watching you grow up as you stayed faithfully by my side… I can’t wait to see what kind of person you become in the future. I’ll support you, just as you have me. </p>
<p>That being said… I want your sleep schedule and your diet to be properly remedied. A minimum of six hours of sleep every night, and three meals a day. Snacks too. No ifs, ands, or buts. If anyone tries to interfere, tell them the princess will personally <em>dog walk </em>them if they even try. </p>
<p>Rest!!!!!! You’re still a growing boy! </p>
<p>And drink your milk! </p>
<p>
  <strong>Xoxo, Sumire </strong>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em></em>
  </strong>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>    Dear Inuko, </strong>
</p>
<p>Ugh, my god, this is gonna be the worst one yet. Writing a Valentine’s letter? To you? Ha! What a joke, I’d rather waste my ink on forging a cheesy confession from you to Ira. I’d be doing you a favor, won’t I? </p>
<p>I can already imagine your expression right now. I can quite vividly see it. And I’m laughing at it. </p>
<p>You know, during the worst times of my life, I always recalled the memories we had together. Those days with you on the streets, just us against the world… I wasn’t satisfied. I wanted to take you and live somewhere peaceful with you, maybe in a big house where we could both be mad at the world together. </p>
<p>It was always you who kept pushing me forward. I was always so inspired by you. I don’t think I would be who I am today if it weren’t for you. That girl I met on the streets, angry and furious and powerful… I don’t regret stepping in to help you. I’d do it a thousand times over if it meant meeting you. </p>
<p>The promise we made- about finding each other, no matter the distance… I’ll keep my end of the bargain, so you keep yours. I want to inspire you, too. I want to help you move forward. I know you didn’t have much of a family, and I know it won’t ever quell the hurt of wanting to have one… But know that you always have a home with me. </p>
<p>Always. Never forget that. </p>
<p>
  <strong>Xoxo, Sumire</strong>
</p>
<p>P.S Let’s sneak out tonight with everyone else and  run away from the palace for a while. </p>
<p>
  <strong>
    <em></em>
  </strong>
  <em>ꕤꕤꕤ</em>
</p>
<p>
  <strong>    My Dearest, Ambr,</strong>
</p>
<p>You must be busy this evening, apple slice. Soooo much attention. Do you know how many noble girls and boys asked me about you today? Too many. I was their errand girl for the evening. Go me.</p>
<p>I figured I should join the trend and write you a letter , too. Don’t laugh at me. Promise me that you won’t even crack a smile when you read this, even if you don’t get it. That’s fine. Maybe you will in the future.</p>
<p>When you met me, I was 14 and I was always a hair’s breadth away from destruction.  I hated the world. I built walls not only around my heart but every part of myself, I was unreachable. I always looked forward, never caught up with what was behind me.</p>
<p>I remember looking back, one day. </p>
<p>Your pants and your face were muddied from running through the forest after me. Thistles and leaves were in your hair, but you didn’t care. You cared only about the flowers, and they didn’t even care about you. </p>
<p>And that’s all it took.  That’s where it all started, Ambr. Maybe you didn’t mean anything with the gesture, but it meant something to me. I know. I should stop reading romance novels. </p>
<p>Everything you are, everything you’ve done… Thank you. I think I want to protect this world, especially knowing that you’re in it. I want to protect you. I want to protect your smile. </p>
<p>So leave it to me, okay? I’ll be someone who you can draw strength from, and you can be whoever you want to be. That’s enough for me. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Summer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ambr belongs to Mes ಸ‿ಸ</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>✧✧✧</p>
<p>    Summers in Espirasera are lovely, but it picks away at one’s patience. </p>
<p>    The days stretch longer than before. By the time evening hits the sun still rules the sky in orange and gold. Licks of night sky appear just a wee two hours before midnight, but then the gentle caress of true darkness is gone so soon. The heat is thick and heavy 24/7, the fruits come in bountiful heaps to be served in the market…. With the sun governing the skies longer than before, people sleep later but wake up earlier. Yet somehow, they still feel refreshed. </p>
<p>    Summer means more time in daylight. Things can get done. But for a headstrong princess and a hard-working retainer, more time meant <em>more time for their duties</em>.They clean sweeped their tasks, even months-old tasks placed on the backburner, within a <em>week. </em>Along with the rest of the palace staff. The entirety of the Bernian palace feels like those awkward soccer players who randomly got picked to play- but they’re not really the sporty kind, so they just stand around on the field as the rest of the world operates seamlessly around them.</p>
<p>Cherrypicker. That’s the word. That’s the word to describe the Bernian palace.</p>
<p>    To say the least, neither Ambr nor Sumire are used to it. Pair that with the fact that Avarice is gone for a month to visit his family, and the King is half-way across the continent to negotiate an alliance, and, well… </p>
<p>    “I’m dying,” Sumire pouts, dramatically draping herself on her chair as she throws her arm over her eyes. Ambr pours her iced milk with honey and sugar, a staple drink for days as hot as today. </p>
<p>    He had lovingly set up a table and chairs at a shady veranda. The view of the palace garden is as inviting as the afternoon wind, quelling the heat for brief lapses. The tablecloth occasionally dances freely with the wind, but Sumire doesn’t mind. She likes the feel of the fabric rippling against her skin as she tries to satiate her boredom.</p>
<p>    “A tragedy, my lady.” She hears the quiet scrape of the chair across from her being pulled, then the sound of Ambr gently sitting down as if not to disturb her brooding. </p>
<p>    “Funny,” she mutters, lifting her arm to narrow her eyes pointedly at him. He seems to smile just a little. “Come on. You also must not be used to having so much free time on your hands? You’re always running around from one corner of the palace to the other. Sometimes countries, I hear.”</p>
<p>    “Ah. It helps that I have long legs- makes the job easier.”</p>
<p>    “Efficiency is the name of the game in Espirasera,” she agrees as she sits up. Her fingers wrap around the metal handle of the pitcher, about to pour him a cup of iced milk... Only to realize he’s brought one fancy teacup. Sumire narrows her eyes at him again. Fine, they’ll just share. “Seriously, though. You must be at wit’s end wondering what you should do.”</p>
<p>    “Admittedly…” Her words bring him to tilt his head to the side in thought. “Admittedly, I am not used to having this much time on my hands. I apologize for my lack of tact, my lady. Surely there’s work in some hidden corner of the palace.”</p>
<p>    “You mean work that you somehow haven’t found? And finished? Inuko told me you helped her brush grime and dirt out of the dragon’s scales yesterday.” Sumire raises a brow. “That’s not even your job!” </p>
<p>    “I was curious about them. Mai and Silos helped too.”</p>
<p>    Ohhhh. “That explains why the four of you were gone for a while. A joyride on Inuko’s dragons without me? Unbelievable, that would have been fun…” </p>
<p>    “I swear we were going to find you, but Inuko Jr. began to act strangely and rode against Inuko’s directions. Towards Ira, for whatever reason…” He quirks a brow because he <em>knows</em> exactly why<em>. </em>Sumire grins at him. “... But I digress. I share your burdens, my lady. I also quite literally don’t know what to do.”</p>
<p>    They both lean forward in thought. “Is there any place you want to visit?” </p>
<p>    “You were gracious enough to give me two days last week to visit Voren.”</p>
<p>    Shit. “Er… Anything in the theatre that caught your eye?”</p>
<p>    Ambr wrinkles his nose in distaste. </p>
<p>    “Ummm….” Sumire wracks her brain desperately for ideas. Nothing comes to mind. They could do a round of cards; President, Who’s The Jester, Saint Augustine’s Hat,  Strip Poker… She knows a few that could occupy them… For maybe an hour. So that’s a no-go.</p>
<p>    Visit their friends? It’s too damn hot to even venture out into the streets, they’d be sweating buckets. </p>
<p>    What did she like to do when she had more free time as a kid? Read? She’s read through almost every book in the palace’s expansive library. Play chess? Boring. Design clothes? Yeah, but that’d be boring for Ambr… Wait.</p>
<p>    She jumps to her feet, startling Ambr the slightest. “I have a selfish request for you, Ambr.”</p>
<p>✧✧✧</p>
<p>Sumire has done this with Inuko, Mai, and Vivie before. Dressing up her friends in her designs has always been fun for her. She’s even bought empty journals to fill them with design sketches. Several pages are dedicated to outfits that she personally thinks would look really good on her friends… Ambr included.</p>
<p>    Time just hasn’t permitted them to do this sort of thing. </p>
<p>    “Take off your vest,” she commands, eyeing him not-so-subtly as he nods. He doesn’t fumble once when he strips it off, carefully folding it and placing it neatly on a chair. While he does that, Sumire bends down and rummages through her bookshelf. A purple journal is pulled out, and she flips through it, stops at a certain page, then hums in approval.</p>
<p>    Right. These were designs specifically for him she made two years ago… Sumire is surprised at how much thought was put into her own work. Not that she ever half-asses anything, but there was so much care and detail put into the embroidery on the collar. She even went as far as choosing alternative colors should the market not sell the fabrics in the specific dyes she needs. </p>
<p>    “So, I’m going to do your makeup first,” she explains as she traipses along the room, grabbing random things from her vanity. Brushes, eyeshadow palette, bottles with sparkly liquid, a tube of lipstick and gloss, and a bottle of perfume. “And then I’ll get you in an outfit I have in mind. I can kind of envision it now, but I don’t want to spoil it. So just…”</p>
<p>    Sumire nods her chin to her canopy bed.  “Sit down there.”</p>
<p>    “... There?” Ambr’s voice is thick with uncertainty. “I…”</p>
<p>    “Relaaax. It’ll be fun.”</p>
<p>    “... As you wish, my lady.”</p>
<p>    The first rule of makeup and fashion and design is that it’s not meant to make you <em>look </em>or <em>feel </em>better, but to accentuate and compliment your features. Most people mistake both as a tool for transformation. In her honest opinion, it’s a tool for enhancement, not for change. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. Beauty is subjective. Conforming to one standard? That’s boring. You can literally miss her with that bullshit.</p>
<p>    Once she has all the supplies needed, Sumire wastes no time in setting up her station around Ambr’s position on the bed. Around him, she’s organized her makeup into the simple 25-step procedure she does every morning, with hydrating moisturizers, beauty serums and lotions at the beginning and lip glosses at the end.</p>
<p>    “This is a lot,” he comments. Mostly out of fascination, but she can sense his anxiety. </p>
<p>    Sumire smiles at him, trying her best to be reassuring. Her knee presses into the bed and it dips under her weight. She sits right next to him, her eyes trailing across his face to map out her plan. “Yeah, well. You know. I like to be extra.”</p>
<p>    He chuckles softly. “I never really noticed.”</p>
<p>    “Funny.”</p>
<p>    “I mean it, my lady. You’re quite humble.”</p>
<p>    “<em>Hilarious.</em>”</p>
<p>    “A charity worker.”</p>
<p>    “You have achieved comedy.”</p>
<p>    That draws out a laugh from him. He turns his head from her intense gaze, shaking his head all the while. Sumire smiles again. Her attention shifts to the bottles of moisturizers, her movement shifting the bed every now and then. </p>
<p>    “Okay, so. I’m starting with this coconut moisturizer. It’s pretty simple, shouldn’t irritate your skin… Unless you’re allergic to coconuts.”</p>
<p>“I’ve never put coconuts on my face, so I wouldn’t know.”</p>
<p>She draws back to flash him an incredulous look. Whatever her expression must have looked like, it brings a smile on his face that threatens to break out into laughter again. Soon enough, she’s smiling too. </p>
<p>This is going to be harder than she thought. He’s so distracting. And more importantly… </p>
<p>His glasses. They’re going to get in the way. Sumire gently lifts them off his face, and she is met with no complaint or resistance. Carefully, she sets them on her nightstand.</p>
<p>“Can you see?” She asks.</p>
<p>There is hesitance. His mismatched eyes focus on hers, then travel along her features. Her brows, her nose, her jaw. The curve of her lips. Then back to her eyes again, his expression gentle. “Yes.”</p>
<p>“Good.” And finally, she begins. Moisturizer, first. It’s easy to massage the lotion into his skin since it’s so flawless. His skin is so smooth…</p>
<p> Her fingers run gently along the scars on his cheeks, then along his fine jaw, beneath and above his lips… She doesn’t need primer or concealer because of the previous statement, so they can already skip that step.</p>
<p>But <em>hmmm. </em></p>
<p>She realizes, as she spins a brush in her hand, that her position is somewhat awkward. Leaning over to apply his eyeshadow would make it hard to evenly apply it; she’d have to crane her neck and hold the spot just above his eyebrow to do it properly. If only she had a higher vantage…</p>
<p>Ah, wait.</p>
<p>“Close your eyes,” she commands. </p>
<p>Ambr’s eyes shut. </p>
<p>“Don’t freak out,” she adds. Ambr’s expression knits into one of confusion. Sumire almost laughs at it, then steels her nerves. </p>
<p>Carefully, she throws her leg over his lap so her knee is pressing into the bed beside his legs, the other on the other side. Trapping him, almost, except she’s just placed herself neatly on his lap. The end of her dress bunches up slightly as she allows her weight to settle. </p>
<p>He’s going to freak out.</p>
<p>Ambr’s eyes fly open. For a second he’s there, stock-still as he stares at her new position, and then it registers to him what she did. He opens his mouth. All that comes out is a high-pitched, <em>“My lady?!”</em></p>
<p>He’s freaking out.</p>
<p>“I- It’s the only way to get your eyeshadow correct, okay? It’s fiiine.”</p>
<p>“I… I don’t… I.. This is…”</p>
<p>“Relaaax.”</p>
<p>He tries to, bless his heart. Sumire realizes his pretty hair might start graying because of her antics. All with good nature, she would argue. But the magnificent blush that rises on his face? Sumire smirks as she waves the eyeshadow brush in front of his face. He squeezes his eyes shut again.</p>
<p>Gold and roseblush are the shades she’s playing with. The gold is subtle enough to blend in perfectly with his skin, but the glimmer of the glitter will be noticeable. Natural, but noticeable. The roseblush color is to compliment his hair but also his eyes; it’ll accentuate them but give him a more sensual flair. </p>
<p>Carefully, she pushes back Ambr’s hair from his face. Sunlight dances languidly on his features, bathing him in its light. Her fingertip draws along his scars, committing their jagged path to memory. </p>
<p>The worried furrow of his brow slackens. Sumire’s breath catches in her throat. God. </p>
<p>Ambr is beautiful. Everyone can agree. </p>
<p>But it’s the type of beauty that isn’t so <em>simple, </em>no. It’s the kind you can drown in. His noble brow, the gentle set of his lips, his eyes which she can never escape… You can just get lost in him for hours. She thinks it’s a sin that he’s a work of art crafted so delicately, made to put gods and goddesses to shame… </p>
<p>Then his eyes slowly open. Moonstone green and ocean blue stare up at her as she gently holds his face in one hand. “My lady…?”</p>
<p>Shit. Sumire blinks herself out of her trance, her mouth forming words but never saying them. “I-”</p>
<p>The words catch in her throat. Makeup cannot capture his beauty. The warm rays of the sun and dancing moonbeams could encapsulate it better; he belongs with the stars, with forces of nature that could maybe rival his beauty.</p>
<p>“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. The words are delivered so gently they could have been a trick of the wind. </p>
<p>Gentle, but the sheer impact of them nearly knocks the breath out of her lungs. <em>You’re breathtaking. </em>Sumire can only muster a smile before she pushes her hand overtop his eyes, forcing them to close. “You’re distracting.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry.”</p>
<p>“You should be. Take responsibility.”</p>
<p>“Whatever I can do for your forgiveness, I shall.”</p>
<p>She starts by applying the roseblush in soft circles, and it’s soon followed with the gold. Her focus and concentration returns to her slowly in spades. Soon enough, she’s done. She leans back to observe her work, then nods in approval. Good. </p>
<p>During that process, his hands had found her waist, gently gripping onto them as she did her magic. Occasionally, as he sat still and allowed her to hem and haw over his eyeliner and mascara, his hands would drift to the back of her dress. Drawn to the ribbon that tightens the fabric around her midriff, looping his fingers into the bunny-eared ribbons, playing with the extra fabric quietly.</p>
<p>“Do you want blush?” She asks, blinking innocently at him. His eyelids flutter open. </p>
<p>“Blush?”</p>
<p>“Well, you know what, maybe not. You get red-faced easily-”</p>
<p>“-I-”</p>
<p>“-so we can skip that step. Ummmm.” Her eyes roam all of her makeups, and she realizes with disdain that there’s a lot of steps that can be skipped. Ambr is a natural beauty, so having too much makeup might… Stifle all of that. But she supposes she can work on his brows. </p>
<p>“Is my face hard to work with?” He must have noticed her ‘displeasure’.</p>
<p>Sumire laughs. “Not at all. It’s really easy.  So, here’s the thing I learned about makeup. It’s all about contrast and tones, so people need very specific palettes to sort of, you know, draw out their natural beauty. But with you…” </p>
<p>“None of them work.” He doesn’t seem surprised. Even though he’s wrong. </p>
<p>“All of them work,” she says. She smiles wider when he blinks up at her, then laughs when he narrows his eyes. “It’s not lip-service, I promise. Any palette would look good on you.”</p>
<p> “... I suppose that’s relieving to hear. Should there be a need for me to wear makeup on an occasion, it would be less work for the artists.” </p>
<p>“Just take the compliment,” she scowls, and he smiles at her again, as if admitting defeat. “Seriously, dismantling my 20-step system into like, three steps. Unbelievable.” </p>
<p>“I’ll add that onto my list of sins, my lady. Truly, I am sorry.”</p>
<p>“Uh huh,” she smirks down at him. “Okay, finishing touch. Lip gloss.”  Her favorite- it’s shimmery and pink in hue, but really it applies itself into a thin, clear layer of glitter. It’s what makes her lips so shiny. </p>
<p>Ambr seems to know the drill. He parts his lips and he watches her expectantly. </p>
<p>But she has other ideas in mind. Seriously, just who does he think he is, thinking he can be effortlessly good looking? That should be at the top of his list of sins. When Sumire becomes queen, she’ll make it law that people like him be made aware of the effect they have on others. It’s practically criminal that he’s unaware of his power. </p>
<p>“Like this,” she says. And she applies it slow, one hand lifting his chin up for more accuracy, her thumb lingering underneath his bottom lip. All too aware of his gaze, Sumire focuses on his lips. If she loses concentration, she’ll lose her cool. She just needs to focus and then she can get him in his outfit.</p>
<p>As long as he doesn’t do anything distracting.</p>
<p>Ambr’s tongue darts out to taste his lips, and Sumire loses any semblance of control. </p>
<p>“It’s sweet,” he murmurs in wonder. He hums when Sumire’s thumb hooks onto his bottom lip, drawing it out slightly. “Sweeter,” he whispers, and Sumire wonders if he’s doing this on purpose.</p>
<p>“Unfair.” </p>
<p>“Please don’t pout at me, my lady. You were the one who sat on my lap.”</p>
<p>“You shouldn’t talk when your mouth is full.”</p>
<p>“It isn’t.”</p>
<p>“You’re playing a losing game, Ambrosia.”</p>
<p>“I play for your favour, my lady.” His gloved hand gently takes her wrist, and he presses a kiss to her knuckles. “All you have to do is issue me a command. I’ll follow.”</p>
<p>“Then allow me to make a selfish request.” </p>
<p>“Gladly,” he whispers, then turns over her hand so he can seal a kiss on her wrist.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Forgetting you're Pretending</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Once again, other than Sumire, none of these ocs belong to me ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ</p><p>Ambr - Mes, that whore<br/>Silos - Fe<br/>Roxanne - Natsu<br/>Vivie - Mochi<br/>Keyna - Moni</p><p>ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>✧✧✧</em>    </p><p>    “Well, that certainly makes things simple,” says Roxanne. Her unsettling red eyes shimmer with approval as they scan down the floorplans; Sumire was right. Silos and Ambr aren’t just brute strength out on the battlefield. With their experience, undercover missions would be a <em>breeze… </em>Not that it wasn’t for her beforehand, but her spells are large-scale and powerful, and sometimes subtlety is the best way to approach things.</p><p>    Subtlety and <em>theft, </em>apparently.</p><p>    “And you’re sure that the relic that Natalia Von Freyr wants is here?” Vivie’s well manicured nail traces along a well-drawn corridor, then stops at the library. A crude sketch from Keyna, inked in red, maps out the hidden room that contains a stairwell. “The scepter, that according to Roxy, holds no magical properties.”</p><p>    “Don’t forget the fact that it’s well hidden, so you have to press along the walls. It’s repurposed shiplap sheathing,” Keyna scrunches her nose and grins, grabbing a fountain pen from the side and marking a certain part of the drawn wall red. “Right around here.”</p><p>    “Good catch,” Sumire smirks at Silos, who perks up a little from across the oaken roundtable the six of them are situated at. Ambr gives him a small proud smile from beside her. “All this for a stupid scepter… Seriously, how obvious is it that the library has secret panelling that hides a secret stairwell?” </p><p>    “My first guess would have been the antique room,” Ambr hums as his gloved hand roams the blueprint. His free hand brushes against Sumire’s from underneath the table. She wastes no time in lacing her fingers between his. “But I digress. A spring ball is the perfect time to infiltrate, especially after the fact that house Kaleo suffered an unsuccessful siege against house Bran. Meaning their security has dwindled in numbers. Less prying eyes…”</p><p>    … <em>And the window of error diminishes, </em>Silos signs, then pops a cookie in Sumire’s mouth. Keyna opens her mouth enviously, and Silos pops one in her mouth, too.  <em>Easy in, easy out.</em></p><p>“Mm,” Vivie nods, and claps her hands together with a serene smile. “Well, it goes without saying that you have my support from the main hall, darlings. I’ll control the crowd with Roxanne,” she bumps her hip against the Empress, who nods, “and the rest of you can do your jobs. Everyone on floor with me… Shall we match dressings for the night?”</p><p>    “Nope!” Keyna laughs.</p><p>    “That sounds like a great idea,” Sumire chimes in at the same time. She throws Keyna a look, and Keyna can only grin wolfishly at her. “You are <em>not </em>wearing boots.”</p><p>    “Am too~”</p><p>    “I’m afraid I might have to agree with my lady on this one,” says Ambr, “as much as I prefer clothing that is efficient, the idea is to not draw attention to you.”</p><p>    “And dressing too casually will do just the exact opposite of that,” Roxy adds.</p><p>    “Don’t think you’re off the hook either, Silos.” Vivie throws him a knowing smile. “Foot wraps won’t work in this situation, either. But I have alternatives you may like?”</p><p>    <em>Shoes are for people who aren’t evolved, </em>Silos signs.</p><p>    “Yeah, and frills and dresses and things are for like, dumb people.”</p><p>    “You just insulted like, more than seventy five percent of the continent.” </p><p>    <em>They kind of deserve it</em>.</p><p>    “Frills are nice if they’re controlled.”</p><p>    “Let’s get back on topic, everyone…”</p><p>    A knock on the door. Sumire clears her throat. “Yes?”</p><p>    A voice from the other side goes, “Princess? Your father requests an audience with you.”</p><p>    “Ah,” Ambr casts her a curious stare, one filled with concern. “Shall I accompany you to the throne room?”</p><p>    Her hand squeezes his for reassurance. <em>I’ll be fine. </em>And reluctantly she lets go, careful that she doesn’t give away to the others that they were holding hands. “It’s okay. You guys still have to discuss emergency escapes, right? What happens when everything goes awry? Fill me in if the meeting is done when I get back.”</p><p>    “Of course, my lady.”</p><p>    “Mm,” she smiles, and before she can stop herself, she leans in to kiss him softly. “See you soon.”</p><p>    Keyna stares, dumbfounded, then grins.</p><p>    Vivie sips her tea.</p><p>    Roxy smirks.</p><p>    Silos munches on his cookie.</p><p>    Oh. Oh. Oh, holy fuck!</p><p>    <em>Fuck, </em>Sumire thinks. <em>Fuck. </em></p><p>    She approaches Keyna, then takes her face in her hands and kisses her, too. This time, it’s more robotic and forced and it’s obvious. “See you, too.”</p><p>    Next, Vivie. Sumire is shaking when she pecks her on the mouth. “A-and you, Vi.”</p><p>    Then Roxy. Sumire is practically sweating when she kisses her cheek, just so she can catch the corner of her lips. “Empress.”</p><p>    Silos. Sumire just hugs him. “Always a pleasure, little man.”</p><p>    With as much grace as possible, Sumire calmly exits the room. Down the hall, out of earshot, she yells, “FUCK!”</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Everything's Changing, and I'm Not Afraid Anymore</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ヽ༼° ل͜ °༽ﾉ Every oc but Sumire does not belong to me:</p><p>Ambr &amp; Toni - Mes<br/>Inuko - Vee<br/>Nova - Owl<br/>Silos - Fe<br/>Mai - Mel</p><p>.... ヽ༼° ل͜ °༽ﾉ</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    Morning. </p><p>It paints him in gold. A ring of celestial light in his hair shines like a halo. And for a second, Sumire is so stunned that she has to wonder if any of this is real.</p><p>    The wind rustles the white lilies. Their leaves brush against her calves; soft whispers against her skin that jolts her from her thrall, brings her back to reality… And when he hears her, turns and smiles gently at her, Sumire realizes that <em>yes, yes, all of this is real. </em></p><p>    “My lady,” he says, and bends. A hand over his heart as he greets her, his smile still soft. “You asked for my presence, I beckoned.”</p><p>    His voice is all the same. It makes her lips twitch into a smile. Years ago when they first met, the way he spoke was exactly the same. The only difference was that he only spoke unless spoken to. Rarely did he ever offer conversation; he replied out of obligation, not out of want. But he’s changed.</p><p>    “A test of your loyalty,” she jokes, coming to him as they stand side by side. “You passed. Waking up <em>this </em>early, I was beginning to doubt your skills.”</p><p>    “As expected of my lady,” Ambr’s expression turns amused, “to make sure her people are always performing at their very best.”</p><p>    “Are you impressed?”</p><p>    “Oh, very. You set the time, and you came late. I don’t know anyone else who has the audacity and confidence to do that. No wonder I passed.”</p><p>    Her brows raise. A slight on her, is that it? Just because they’re close he’s allowed to wedge in insults for fun, is that it? She stiffens her jaw, and turns her head.</p><p>    Their eyes meet. She watches the sunlight glitter in his mismatched eyes, pools of blues and golds and greens. </p><p>    “Offended?” He says, unfazed by the intensity of her gaze.</p><p>    Sumire raises her chin. “Completely.”</p><p>    “<em>Good.</em>”</p><p>    They hold their stares. The pin drops. </p><p>    And so do their facades, as quickly as they came.</p><p>    Sumire cracks first- her lips twitch and she laughs, ducking her head. Ambr’s chuckle is melodic; she reaches out and pushes him gently, and he plays the part of letting it affect him, so naturally in sync with her that she can be fooled to believe that she is <em>strong </em>enough to actually push him. Losing his footing slightly, he takes a step back- and she moves forward so that they’re close again.</p><p>    “Asshole,” she quips, and his smile widens all over again.</p><p>    “I meant every word.”</p><p>    “You’ve gotten funnier.”</p><p>    Ambr grins and her heart <em>sings. </em>That’s the expression she was hoping to tease out of him. It’s blinding how brightly he smiles, that fanged, toothy grin. “I try to be. I have to fall in step with the princess of Espirasera, it would be shameful if I couldn’t.”</p><p>    <em>Princess. </em>The word suddenly weighs down on her, and the lightness of his presence is almost hard to feel. <em>Right, </em>shit. It’s why she called him here, it’s why she asked to meet with him. Tongue heavy, she glances up- and his expression has changed too, one of concern. “My lady…?”</p><p>    Sumire’s mouth goes dry. Too quickly she rips away from his gaze and into the meadow of white lilies. Sunbeams dance on dewdrops kissing their petals; the wind surrounds them, mercy from the heat. Beautiful. </p><p>Last time she was here, the ground was ashes. She was seventeen. Remnants of her father’s latest conquest of a city; no mercy shown to innocent and guilty alike. <em>Death is equal, </em>her father had said.<em> Death cowers for no one. </em></p><p>
  
</p><p>    <em>Neither does life, </em>she thinks. </p><p>It was her secret project, planting lilies here. There were so many deaths that they couldn’t even bother with mass graves. So she did what she hoped would be enough- plant flowers. And let them grow in a hopeless place.</p><p>    “Princess?”</p><p>    <em>Princess. </em>Right. She made a choice. Sumire hesitates, then swallows up her anxiety. “Not anymore.”</p><p>    “I… Beg your pardon?”</p><p>    “I’m revoking my title,” she clarifies. “For the sake of the rebellion.”</p><p>    Silence from Ambr. His expression is unreadable. Sumire’s mouth goes dry again, and the words stumble out of her mouth like a river breaking from a dam.</p><p> “I- politically, speaking, it would be incorrect, to call myself the princess of Espirasera when my auntie is on the throne. My father is dead and gone, sure… But I’m <em>not</em> the last Bernia. There’s one more, and she’s on the throne, and she’s going to make the <em>same </em>mistakes as he is.”</p><p>    Silence.</p><p>    “And it would be wrong to call banners under the Bernian name. The symbol of the rebellion, that’s what they’ve been calling me- how can I be if my title is a symbol of <em>authority? </em>I’m controlling no one. I’m giving people a choice. And I’m fighting as Sumire, not as the princess.”</p><p>    Silence.</p><p>    <em>Fuck. </em>“I… I wanted to let you know that you have… a choice, too.” </p><p>    “Is this what you called me out for?” Ambr raises his chin and brow. “To let me know that I have a choice?”</p><p>    “Well- <em>well, </em>well, yes. Yes, I did.”</p><p>    Ambr turns his head with a sigh. The distance closes between them, and it falls so easily; she steps into his orbit and leans her head up as he tilts his down. Their foreheads lock. </p><p>“Sumire,” he says so softly. “You’re so damn stubborn.”</p><p>She laughs, but there’s a catch in her voice; her hands reach up to cup his face, and his hands hold her wrists. </p><p>“How many times do I have to tell you that I follow you out of my own volition,” Ambr murmurs. </p><p>“I know-”</p><p>“Then why tell me that I have a choice?”</p><p>“Because I wanted you to know that you no longer have to follow me-”</p><p>“-<em>Sumire</em>-”</p><p>“-that you can stand at <em>my side</em>,” she says, her breath hitting his lips. “You can walk alongside me, you no longer have to be behind me. I never wanted you to be. I wanted you at my side.”</p><p>There’s a softness in his eyes that she can’t quite understand. Sumire never understood why she was allowed to be looked at like that; she never understood why it was her. But it makes her shattered heart mend every time she looks at him. Every time he smiles at her, she’s reminded of all the good in the world, the good she wants to protect.</p><p><em>All because of you, </em>she thinks, just as he says, “And what if I say I <em>want</em> to follow you?”</p><p>“Because I had a feeling you would say that,” she smiles, as she kisses him softly, “I say that I will be the one to take a step back, and walk alongside you instead. Because I will follow you, too.”</p><p>Ambr chuckles. There’s a look of resignation in his expression; the one she knows where he realizes he can’t win against her. “I swore on my family name, and here you are stealing my lines.”</p><p>“Sorry. There’s really nothing for me to swear on. If I swore on my family names, I might ruin the moment and say something terrible. <em>Lunis don’t live long, so piss on.</em>”</p><p>“I don’t know, my lady. I find that quite romantic.”</p><p>“Well, there you go. There’s the words I swear on.” Cupping his cheek, she watches fondly as he leans into her touch. Her thumb traces over his scars gently, and she thinks that this is what she’s fighting for. For him. She wants nothing more than to protect him. </p><p>He smiles again, and that’s all it takes.</p><p>“I love you,” Sumire whispers. “I love you, Ambrosia Adstrum.” </p><p>And before he can answer, she leans up to brush her lips against his brooches. A kiss for his family, whose unjust deaths she wishes to honor, to bring to justice… And a kiss on his rook, over all the cracks and dividends, broken parts of a whole she’s come to adore. </p><p>When their foreheads brush against each other again, she’s lost in his eyes once more. </p><p>“Everything is changing, and I was so afraid to let go.” </p><p>“Don’t be.” His voice is so gentle that it could have been a trick of the wind.</p><p>“I’m not anymore,” she smiles. “Not with you at my side.”</p><p>“Sumire…” </p><p>“Yeah, uh, <em>Sumire.</em>”</p><p>The new voice causes them to jump back from each other- Ambr had bounded in front of her, stance protective, but immediately relaxes to embarrassment when they see who it is. Or more precisely, who they <em>are. </em></p><p>Their friends gape at them. </p><p>“Fuck,” Sumire breathes.</p><p>Nova’s expression twists into disgust, Toni is pinching the bridge of his nose, Mai is smirking, Silos is crouching down and playing with the flowers, and Inuko has her fist over her mouth, trying not to laugh.</p><p>“I fucking knew it,” Inuko wheezes.</p><p>“We were <em>looking for you, </em>we were going to send a search party for you,” Toni’s voice is edging on irritation. “Do you know how long the two of you were gone?”</p><p>“It’s-- It’s like, early morning,” Sumire sputters. </p><p>“It’s also not what it looks like,” Ambr adds. “We were just--”</p><p>“Canoodling in a field of flowers and whispering sweet nothings to each other?” Nova deadpans.</p><p><em>They’re just friends, </em>Silos signs. It looks mocking and sarcastic and Sumire hides her face in her hand.</p><p>“We have a goddamn meeting to get back to. But we have all day if you guys want to put on a show for us.” Mai’s grin is <em>beyond </em>teasing. “Sorry, we’re on the clock here? Unlike <em>you two </em>lovebirds.”</p><p>“Again, it’s <em>not </em>what it looks like-”</p><p>“Uh-huh. We’re walking away now.”</p><p>Their friends turn, walking ahead of them. The flowers dance as Ambr and Sumire watch their backs. God, caught in the act… How juvenile. She flashes him a look and he winces. Seems like the two of them were caught up in their own little world that they couldn’t even pay attention to their surroundings. </p><p>“Come on,” she sighs, and walks forward. She turns and reaches out for him. “Let’s walk back together.”</p><p>Hesitance. </p><p>And then a smile, as he takes her hand. </p><p>“Alright.” </p>
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